“It has been a most pleasant afternoon, hasn’t it?” Alicia said quite casually as she drew level with Charlotte. “So considerate of Lady Cumming-Gould to arrange it in such a way that it is not inappropriate for me to come. Mourning seems to go on for so long, it only makes the bereavement worse. It allows no one diversion in order to relieve one’s mind from thoughts of death, or from loneliness.”
“Quite,” Charlotte agreed. “I think people do not realize the added burden it is, on top of the loss one has already sustained.”
“I did not know before today that Lady Cumming-Gold was an aunt of yours,” Alicia continued.
“I think that is rather more than the truth,” Charlotte smiled. “She is the great-aunt of my brother-in-law, Lord Ashworth.” Then she said what she intended to tell Alicia ever since the conversation with Lord St. Jermyn. “My sister Emily married Lord Ashworth a little while ago. My older sister, Sarah, was married to Dominic before she died; but then I’m sure you knew that—” She was, in fact, quite sure that she did not, but she wanted to allow Alicia room to pretend that she had.
Alicia disguised her confusion with a masterly effort. Charlotte affected not to have noticed.
“Yes, of course,” Alicia pretended. “Although he has been so taken up with this business of Mr. Carlisle’s lately that I have not talked with him much. I should be obliged if you could tell me a little more about it. You seem to be in their confidence, and I confess myself most dreadfully ignorant.”
Charlotte surprised herself by lying. “Actually, I think it is rather more Aunt Vespasia’s confidence I am in.” She kept her voice quite light. “She is very concerned with it, you know. Mr. Carlisle seems to speak to her on the subject, perhaps to gain her assistance in persuading others with seats in the House to go and support them—” She glanced at Alicia and saw the memory of St. Jermyn’s remark flicker across her face. “She does know a great many people. I have never seen a workhouse myself, naturally, but from what they have said, it is a most appalling distress which should be alleviated. And if this bill will provide maintenance and education for pauper children in the metropolis and remove them from the effects of living in the constant company of the vagrant of all sorts, I for one would hope and pray it will be passed.”
Alicia’s face softened with relief. “Oh, so do I,” she agreed intensely. “I must think if I know anyone who could help; there must be some of Augustus’s family or friends.”
“Oh, could you?” Charlotte was not playacting this time; she cared about both Dominic and Alicia because they were individual people she could understand; but perhaps if she were honest, the bill was far more important than a simple murder, whatever tragedy brought it about or followed in its wake.
Alicia smiled. “Of course. I shall begin as soon as I get home.” She held out her hand impulsively. “Thank you, Mrs. Pitt. You have been so kind, I feel as if I know you already. I hope you don’t consider that an impertinence?”
“I consider it the greatest compliment,” Charlotte said sincerely. “I hope you will feel so in the future.”
Alicia kept her word. Upon arriving home, the first thing she did after giving her cloak to the maid and changing into dry boots was to go to her writing room and take out her address book. She had very carefully composed and written four letters before going upstairs to change for the evening meal.
Verity was not home, having gone to visit a cousin for a few days, and there was no one at the table except the old lady and herself. She missed Verity, because she both enjoyed her company and would have liked to share with her the new project she had found and her thoughts on Mrs. Pitt, whom Alicia had changed from disliking intensely, because of Dominic’s obvious regard for and closeness to her, to liking her now as much; she was quite different from Alicia’s imagining.
“Did you enjoy your tea party?” the old lady asked, spearing a large portion of fish with her fork and putting it whole into her mouth. “No one commented it odd that you should be out so soon after your husband’s burial? I suppose they were too polite!”
“It is over five weeks since he died, Mama-in-law,” Alicia replied, removing the bone from her fish delicately. “And it was a soirée, not a tea party.”
“Music as well! Very unsuitable. All love songs, I suppose, so you could gape at Dominic Corde and make a fool of yourself. He won’t marry you, you know! He hasn’t the stomach for it. He thinks you poisoned Augustus!”
The full meaning of what she had said broke on Alicia only slowly. At first she was angry with the suggestion that she had disgraced herself at the soirée. Only after she had opened her mouth to deny it did she realize what the old lady had said about Dominic. It was ugly and utterly wrong! Of course he would never think anything so evil of her!
“Won’t be able to prove it, of course,” the old lady went on, eyes bright. “Won’t say anything—just be a little cooler every time you see him. Notice he didn’t call round the last few days! No more carriage rides—”
“It hasn’t been the weather,” Alicia said hotly.
“Never stopped him before!” The old lady took another mouthful of fish and spoke round it. “Seen him come here at Christmas when there was snow in the streets! Don’t make a fool of yourself, girl!”
Alicia was too angry to be polite any more. “Last week you were saying he killed Augustus himself!” she snapped. “If he did it, how could he be thinking I did? Or do you imagine we both did it quite independently? If that is the case, then you should be delighted to see us marry—we deserve each other!”
The old lady glared at her, pretending to have her mouth too full to speak, while she thought of a suitable reply.
“Perhaps he thinks you did it?” Alicia went on, gathering impetus with the idea. “After all, the digitalis is yours, not mine! Maybe he is afraid to come and live here in the same house with you?”
“And why should I poison my own son, pray?” The old lady swallowed her mouthful and immediately put in more. “I don’t want to marry some handsome young philanderer!”
“It’s as well,” Alicia snapped. “Since you don’t have the least opportunity.” She was appalled at herself, but years of good behavior had finally snapped, and it was a marvelous feeling, exhilarating, like riding too fast on a good horse.
“Neither do you, my girl!” The old lady’s face was scarlet. “And you’re a fool if you imagine you have. You’ve poisoned your husband for nothing!”
“If you think me a poisoner”—Alicia looked straight into her old eyes—“I am surprised you dine so voraciously at the same table with me and yet pursue my enmity so hard. Are you not afraid for yourself?”
The old lady choked, and her face went livid white. Her hand flew to her throat.
Alicia laughed with real and bitter humor. “If I were going to poison anyone, it would have been you in the beginning, not Augustus; but I am not, which you know as well as I do, or you would have thought of it long ago. You would have had Nisbett tasting everything before you put it in your mouth! Not that I wouldn’t cheerfully have poisoned Nisbett, too!”
The old lady coughed and went into a spasm.
Alicia ignored her. “If you have had sufficient of that fish,” she said coldly, “I’ll have Byrne bring in the meat!”
Pitt knew nothing about the soirée. He was determined to find the identity of the corpse from the cab, and as soon as he received the result of the postmortem he snatched it from the delivery boy and tore it open. He had worn himself out speculating what it might be, something exotic and individual, damning to someone, to account for the extraordinary circumstances. If it were not connected to some crime or scandal, why should anyone perform the grisly and dangerous job of disinterring him and leaving him on the box of a hansom cab? Naturally, they had traced the cab, only to find it had been removed while its owner had been refreshing himself a little too liberally at a local tavern. Not an entirely uncommon occurrence and, on a January night, one for which Pitt had considerable sympathy. Only policemen, cabbies, and lunatics frequented the streets all night long in such weather.